Love Is A Battlefield
by Vampiric Phantoms
Summary: Colonel William Tavington of the British Green Dragoons has taken hostage Kristine 'Kris' McAdams in hopes of capturing the Ghost. But what he doesn't realize is he's captured more than just a bargaining chip.
1. So It Begins

**A/N – **This is actually my second Patriot fanfic. I had started one on Gabriel's last few minutes on Earth and continued to when he made it into the afterlife. But needless to say that didn't work out to well. But this one I feel more confident about.

**A/N2 – **Now, for all those who think this is like all the other Tavington love stories where he captures a patriot woman, they fall in love, and everything is peachy keen, this is not so. Though my story leads down that road there is at least one turn in the opposite direction so please bear with me.

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**Disclaimer – **I in no way, shape, or form own neither The Patriot nor any characters you see that you already know. I do, however, own the main character and her father. No suing me for copyrighting you won't get much money out of me anyway.

Also, for those who are a little out there, like me, the titled is a Pat Benetar song, though the song has nothing to do with this story. The title just summed up the story pretty well, in my opinion.

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**Summery – **In his attempt to rid the continent of Patriots and Continental soldiers, Colonel William Tavington goes to a plantation home capturing a young woman by the name of Kristine. What he doesn't realize, though, is he captured far more than a bargaining chip.

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**Love is A Battlefield – **

"Kristine, Kris…wake up." Kris jolted awake in a cold sweat. She looked around her and saw her father, Samual, leaning over her. "You were having that nightmare one more." She sighed and collapsed on the bed. "I'm sorry to have woken you," she said to her father. He shook his head, "I was up anyway. A battle is being fought a few miles away headed in our direction. I want you up and ready to doctor wounded soldiers." She nodded, "I'll be right there father." He nodded, kissed her on the forehead and left.

She sighed thinking of the dream, or memory really. It had happened only a month ago. She, being the oldest of four girls, was helping her father in the field when they heard screams and gunshots. They raced to their home finding her mother and three sisters lying dead on the ground, blood pouring from their bodies. Ever since then it has only been her and her father.

Pushing the memory away, she got up, changed into decent clothes and tied her chocolate brown locks back with a black ribbon. She stepped out on her front porch and saw soldiers from both sides lying at her feet.

"Kris," called her father. He got up from a Continental soldier and walked over to her. "I want you caring for Redcoats, AND," he said before she could protest, "Redcoats alone." She sighed and nodded, "yes Father," she said. She grabbed medical supplies she knew she would need and worked her way from worst to less severe.

After hours of hard work, day began to break. Looking out over the horizon she spotted movement…the Green Dragoons. "Father!" she called running over to him. He had already spotted them as well. Thos was why he had her work on Redcoats alone; she did nothing wrong in helping aid the British. He kept her back and walked forward.

The leader of the Green Dragoons, Colonel Tavington, halted his party and looked around. His piercing blue eyes landed on Kris but soon turned to Samual, "You," he said. "You are Samual McAdams, are you not?" Samual nodded, "I am," he said.

Colonel Tavington smirked, "And what is a well known patriot, such as yourself, doing housing both Continental and British soldiers?" he asked. "If a man is wounded, we treat him no matter his nationality," Samual said instantly.

"We?" Tavington inquired. Samual nodded, "My daughter and I," he said. Kris walked up next to her father.

Tavington looked between them, "A woman attending Continental soldiers?" he asked clearly amused. Samual shook his head, "No sir, a woman attending British soldiers. She worked on British as I worked on American."

Tavington looked to her impressed, "And how old are you?" he asked. "Twenty," was her reply. Tavington nodded, "Burn the house," he said. "The barn and any other building as well. Take the horses thought. Kill the rebels and take our soldiers to our hospital." His soldiers nodded and carried out his command.

He aimed his pistol at one soldier but Samual jumped in the way, "Please, don't kill them," he said. "Tavington smirked, "And why not?" he asked. "You can't be that heartless to kill a defenseless soldier," he protested. "They don't call me 'The Butcher' for nothing, now step aside," Tavington ordered. Samual shook his head refusing to move.

"Father, please," Kris pleaded with her father. Tavington smirked, "Listen to her," he said. Once again Samual shook his head, "This is injustice," he said. Tavington was losing his patience, "Very well," he said. He cocked his gun and fired, hitting Samual straight through the heart.

"Father!" Kris cried rushing to his lifeless body. "No," she cried over him. The only member of her family left and he was just killed in front of her. "Please, wake up," she pleaded to him.

Tavington nodded to two Dragoon soldiers who nodded and picked her up. "Get off me," she yelled trying to fight against them. They just held her tight and tied her hands behind her back. Tavington reached down and pulled her onto his horse in front of him. His left arm wrapped around her waist and his right held the reigns.

She struggled against him, "Let me go," she hissed, "You killed my father." She didn't want to be anywhere here near him. He just took the one person she had left away. "Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"First off, he wouldn't move so it is his own fault. Secondly I can trade you off for the life of the militia leader." Tavington said tightening his grasp on her.

Her eyes widened in horror, "No, let me go!" She fought against the rope and against Tavington's arm but nothing worked. "Feisty, aren't we?" Tavington snickered. He spurred his horse into a full gallop and carried his captive and himself to the British Estate.

Kris had long given up her struggle to break free. Even so, she still refused to lean against him. She didn't want anything to do with him. After what seemed like hours they made it to a well lit estate surrounded by a wooden wall. Once she saw the wall, she saw all hope of escaping evaporate.

They halted and Tavington gave orders to his men to return to their camp. Once they headed out Tavington turned the horse and headed to the stables. Just outside of it he got off taking Kris off as well. He untied her wrists, but once he did she kicked him in the groin and raced out.

Tavington groaned in pain but soon recovered. Regaining his senses he raced after her. Being older, stronger, and not to mention faster he caught up with her and tackled her. He held her, pinning her arms to her side. "Oh, no you don't," he said practically dragging her to the mansion.

"Get off of me you filthy brute!" Kris hissed struggling against him once more. Her fight was in vain, though, as Tavington pulled her up two flights of stairs.

She was then pushed into a room that was poorly furnished, which was an understatement. All that was in the room was a cot with a single blanket. A window occupied the far wall, but it was no bigger a window than a nice sized hole in the wall.

Tavington stood in the door way. "This is your quarter. Mine is across the hall. Should you try and break free and run I will know. Food will be brought to you this evening." With that said he closed the door, locked it and left.

She stared at the door for a bit, then started to pace anger flooding through her. She wanted to punch the wall and just when she was about to deliver it she thought better. Having a busted hand wouldn't help her any. She finally collapsed on the 'bed' and cried. Her father was dead, never to return again along with her mother and sisters. She had nothing to life for any longer.

She once again fell into a fitful sleep, plagued by her nightmare of memories along with the new addition of her father's murder. She tossed and turned not having her father to wake her.

**-**

It seemed like an eternity – but was only several hours – when Colonel Tavington entered his prisoner's chamber with food. She had been awake for a while staring out the window. She turned when she heard him enter. She saw the food but turned back around; she wasn't hungry and she didn't wish talking to him.

Tavington placed down the food and eyes her as he leant against the door frame. He had to admit, she was considerably pretty.

Feeling his eyes on her back she turned around, "May I help you?" she asked curtly. She saw him look at her a bit longer before he responded, "What is your name?" "Excuse me?" she asked. "That is none of your concern." He smirked, "Oh, it is my concern. Now tell me your name."

She stared at him. Maybe if she gave it to him he would leave, "Kris," she said. He eyes her, "Your name is Kris?" he asked skeptical. "Yes," she snapped, "My name is Kris. Kristine McAdams."

"Oh," he said. "So your name is _Kristine. Kris _is just a nickname," he continued to point out. She rolled her eyes, "If you want to get technical, yes," she said.

He nodded and continued to stare at her. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Do you mind, sir?" she asked. "Actually, I don't," he replied. "I'll be back later to pick up the tray. When I come back I'll be telling you how you will earn your keep as well as your protection." And with that he walked out, leaving a very distraught looking Kris.

She continued to stare at the door once more. What could he mean by 'protection'? Surely no one would try and make advances on her…would they?

She turned to the food, which consisted of broth and bread – luckily not stale - and sat down. She nibbled on the bread, the Colonel's last words ringing in her head.


	2. Creeping Emotions

**A/N – **Alright, here is the second chapter of _Love Is a Battlefield_. I hope you all enjoy.

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**Creeping Emotions –**

It was around ten at night when Colonel Tavington re-entered Kris's room. When he walked in he found her to be sleeping. She was curled up shivering on the cot and no wonder; there was a terrible draft in the room. He decided not to wake her so he grabbed the tray and made to head out. But he was spotted.

"What are you doing?" Kris asked from her place on the bed. She was quite unnerved that he would just walk in and out as he pleased.

He looked over to her, "I'm taking the tray away as I said earlier I would. I decided to let you sleep but seeing as you are awake now I will tell you once I get back in a few minutes." He closed the door, locking it, and brought the tray to a maid. Grabbing an extra blanket for her he made his way back.

When he returned he found her with her blanket wrapped tightly around her. "Here," he said handing her the other blanket. "It'll keep you warm."

"What, now you care for me?" she asked but took the blanket anyway. "No," he answered immediately, "I just don't need you getting sick on me." She stared at him in anger, "Well thank you for your generosity. Now tell me my _duty_ so you can leave," she spat for it definitely was not her duty to serve these people.

He rolled his eyes. He tries to be fair and this is what he gets n return. She definitely had a sharp tongue to match her looks. "Very well, they doctors and I checked our wounded after they were taken from your care and we saw they were well taken care of and they will heal properly. Since you need to earn your keep somehow I have decided you will be the doctor for the officer who lives here, since all our doctors are off at our camps.

She stared at him. "I took care of them because they were severely wounded and because my father asked," she said. "Why would I help the officers?"

He smiled wryly at her, "Because these officers haven't had the pleasure of a woman in quite some time. I can assure you many of them don't hold the morals that I do. If you want me to protect you from them, you must earn your keep."

She glared at him, although there was a hint of fear in her eyes. They wouldn't try to harm her in any way would they? Surely officers of His Majesty's Army would be respectful to women, even if they were hostages.

Though the fear was in her eyes, she refused to have it go to her voice. "And am I to do this here?" she asked.

"No," he said. "The room for the wounded is on the first floor. Usually it is nothing worse than a bullet wound but that is where they will be. Now, I may be misplacing my trust, but I trust you won't try and run away again so I will allow you about without an escort. Guards are posted at every exit so you can forget about running away."

She sighed and nodded, realizing she had no choice but to obey him. "And will I be ensured protection from the men?" she asked him.

They will be told by me to not harm you. If they do then I will deal with them personally. She couldn't be sure, but for a split second she thought she saw the ice in his eyes melt away and replaced by someone who cared. But just as quickly as it came it was gone.

"You start tomorrow. I will show you where everything is then I will be leaving. But just remember there is always someone watching you," he said getting up and leaving her room, locking the door behind him.

-

Tavington went across the hall to his room. He took off his coat and vest and draped them over the chair to his desk. He saw in the cushioned chair next to his window and stared out at the lighted pathway. His room overlooked the front of the estate, a request he had so he could always see what was going on. He knew he had to write the ransom note about Kris but he couldn't, not now. Something was stopping him and he was frightened. Could he possibly be falling in love with this headstrong hostage? He had long given up the search for a woman who could satisfy and complete him. Now he was beginning to question. She was extremely beautiful, even if she was covered in blood, and she wasn't dull-witted like all the other women. She had a head on her shoulders and she was using it.

He sighed, now he remembered one reason he gave up on searching for his significant other, it was way to complicated and confusing. He hated the feeling of not being in control and of not knowing what was happening. When ever he would get the feeling he would push it aside, but now he found that was impossible. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't rid himself of the aching feeling in his chest. IT was as if she had his heart in her hands and held it tight, refusing to let go.

He shook his head, trying to shale the thought of her away. "Get a grip," he muttered to himself. He scolded himself as he stood up and drew the blinds over his window. "She'll be the death of me, literally." He grumbled as he climbed into his four-poster bed. He soon fell asleep and caught himself dreaming of Kris.

-

Kris was awake before the sun even rose. It was impossible for her to sleep even though she had an extra blanket. Apart from the fear and rage that battled within her, she was freezing cold. She lay on the cot huddled into a ball trying to retain her body heat, but that did little good.

After an hour or so she was finally able to fall into a fitful sleep. Unfortunately, that was short lived as she awoke to hearing her name being called. She turned over to see who it was and was met by a pair of icy blue eyes. She gasped and jumped at the close proximity.

Tavington already donned his red and green officer uniform. He held his riding helmet and gloves under his arm. His hair was also in uniform as it was slicked back and queued. His uniform wasn't complete, though, without his signature smirk, which he wore upon his face. "Get up," he said. "I brought a clean dress for you to change into." He gave her the dress and left the room so she could change.

She stripped of her soiled dress and changed into the one Tavington had given her. She was surprised, and a little uncomfortable, that it fir her. And also to her surprise, it was a nice dress. It wasn't just a rag he gave her to wear, it was new. After she finished changing she ran her fingers through her hair trying to comb out the knots. Once satisfied she went to the door. To her astonishment it was unlocked. She opened it and found Tavington waiting for her.

When he heard the door open he turned to her. He couldn't help but think she looked quite pretty. He soon realized he was staring and quickly diverted his gaze. He cleared his voice and said, "Follow me, I'll show you where everything is."

She had noted him staring at her and she smirked. Then an idea came to her; if she could make him think she was interested then she had a chance to escape. She followed him with an indifferent look but inside she was smiling widely. She wouldn't do anything until he made the first move, and she knew he would.

He lead her to a room on the first floor. She entered and as she looked around she noticed it was a huge bedchamber that was transformed into a makeshift hospital. Cots were placed in four rows of four. Directly in the middle of the room was a stand with several pitures of water, bowls, gauze, and everything else she could possibly need.

"Now," he said breaking her study of the room. "As you can see, the room is laid out in a way that you will have no trouble locating any thing. There is a guard posted at the door so you better have a good excuse if you want to leave. Lunch will be brought to you." With that said he gave a small bow and left.

When the door closed behind him she sighed and plopped down on a cot. She could tell this would be a long and boring day. She thought over her plan and prayed it would work. She had to get out of there.

After a while of sitting there, she decided to do something…anything to occupy her. She went to the medical table and looked over everything. She was impressed at finding everything she would need, and then some. She ever found candles and matches to sterilize needles. She nodded her approvement and muttered, "Impressive."

After a few hours of doing absolutely nothing, a soldier walked in carrying a small tray of food. He placed it down and left without saying a word, but she did receive a sneer from him. All she did was return the look and turned her attention to her food.

Another hour passed and she knew she had to get out of the room before she went crazy. She thought up an excuse and opened the door. Right away she was met by a tall and bulky guard. _At least they know how to supervise hostages,_ she mused to herself.

"Where do you think you are going?" he asked in a deep voice that contained a strong British accent.

"To relieve myself, so if you'll excuse me," she said. She tried to side step him but he moved in front of her. She rolled her eyes getting very annoyed. "Yes?" she asked not even attempting to hide her annoyance.

"How do I know that's really where you are going?" he asked.

She sighed, extremely ticked off. "First, I guess you really don't. Secondly, why would I try to run off when obviously I can't? Thirdly, I really admire you British for your swiftness but I will not have you trailing me to make sure that is really where I am going." She let all the bitterness she had slip into her words as she spoke.

After a bit of silence she was finally able to go. She made sure to take her time walking there and going back. She knew this was just about the only freedom she'd get that day and she didn't plan on rushing through it.

When she walked back into the room the sight in front of her stopped her dead in her tracks. She felt a pressure in her chest but she instantly dismissed it. Now was not time for her feelings to act up on her.

Right in front of her Tavington sat on one of the cots. His jacket and vest were cast to side unceremoniously. He was doubled over in pain, clutching his torso. Blood covered his white shirt as well as his hand. When he heard her enter he looked up to her, a pained expression etched into his handsome features.

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**Joelle – **Hey girl! You'll just have to read more and see what becomes of Tavington as well as Kris.

**SassyBrunette – **Thank you. And thank you for the tip, I'll look into it. Tell me if I don't do it.

**Liz-04 – **I was dabbling into that idea. I'll have to see if it will work in with what I have planned.

**Bizziebee – **Thank you. I hope the next chapters are good as well.


	3. Pain and Foreign Feelings

**A/N – **Hey everyone. I'm so sorry this is taking so long to get out. I have been sick and in being so I got major writer's block. But I finally got this chapter down and I hope to get all the other chapters out quickly.

**A/N II – **On Sunday I am leaving to go to Memphis, Tennessee and I may not have updates any time soon. I don't know exactly how long I will be gone but at least a week. Don't worry though, I will continue writing there and when I get back I'll post everything I completed; which will hopefully be a few chapters.

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**Pain and Foreign Feelings –**

For a few seconds, Kris couldn't move. How on earth did the Butcher of the Carolina's get hurt? She was shaken from her thoughts when she heard him hiss in pain.

She shook her head of her thoughts and went to get some things she would need. She set it all down next to him and kneeled on the floor. "Lay back," she said as she gently pushed him down.

Tavington gritted his teeth as he lay down. He kept his arm wrapped around his torso. Blood seeped through his fingers as he applied pressure to stop the flow. "Where were you?" he asked. His voice didn't carry its usual malice and he cursed himself. The last thing he needed was to sound weak in front of her; it was bad enough to be bleeding all over the place.

"I found a good excuse," she said. She had heard the pain in his voice so she decided to not fight with him. She moved his hand away and ripped open his shirt. Her eyes traveled down his well-toned chest. There were no imperfections except the huge gash in his stomach, right above the top of his trousers. She realized what she was doing and blushed several shades of red. _'This is no time to be fraternizing with the enemy,'_ she scolded herself.

He smirked to himself when he saw her blush. But his smirk soon changed into a look of pain when she lightly touched the cut. "Aahh," he groaned, "in case you haven't noticed, that area is a little tender."

She rolled her eyes at his sarcasm. She ignored his comment and turned back to his wound. She would have to give him stitches, and she was surprised she wasn't repulsed by that. She actually found herself wanting to help him.

She dipped a rag in a bowl of water and proceeded to clean the wound. Just by the amount of blood he had loss she could tell he would need stitches. Once she washed all the blood away she was surprised to see it wasn't very deep, but deep enough. She was also shocked to see what the wound looked like. The flesh that was on the edge of the cut was jagged and shredded. "What happened?" she asked. She had never seen anything like this.

He sighed; this was the one question he had hoped she wouldn't ask. But, of course, she did. "I was riding alone and I was ambushed by a militia man. He knocked me off my horse, we wrestled, and I killed him." What he didn't tell her was that he had been caught off guard because he had been thinking of her.

As he recounted his story to her, Kris threaded a needle and began to stitch his torso. Hr was hard for her to do this with his skin shredded but she was able to manage.

Though his story explained the huge bruise on his chest and stomach, and the cut, it didn't why his flesh was shredded. Normally, wounds were clean cuts. "Why does your flesh look like this?" she asked motioning to the part of the cut she hadn't stitched yet.

He lifted his head and looked down to see what she was talking about. When he saw it he sighed remembering how much it had bloody hurt. "The dagger he attacked me with was jagged," he said.

She nodded and stitched the rest of the cut in silence. She snapped the thread and tied it off when she finished. She had a feeling that the militia man's dagger hadn't been cleaned so she lightly rubbed some ointment on it to disinfect the wounds.

She sat back when she finished and surveyed her work, making sure t was good enough. "Sit up," she said so she could wrap his torso.

Tavington slowly lifted himself to a sitting position, the pain expression plastered on his face. He tried to hide his expression but failed miserable. He had always hated showing pain and his weakness, but he found he hated it even more in front of her.

Kris unrolled a roll of medical wrapping and knelt closer to him. She held the wrapping against him and wrapped it around his body. She had to get really close to him in order to do this and she found herself blushing.

He watched her and smirked quietly when he saw her blushing, once again. She seemed to do that a lot.

As she wrapped his torso she explained to him her diagnostic. "Alright, you have to be very careful, and don't over exert yourself. Keep riding and/or physical work to a limit. Your muscles and ribcage are badly bruised and if you move around to much your stitches will break open."

He sighed and nodded; but of course he had no intention on doing as she instructed. His whole life was serving in His Majesty's Army and he couldn't stop just because of a flesh wound.

Then an idea came to him. He doesn't even know how his mind jumped from his service to this, but it did and he decided to do it. Besides, if he didn't he may never get the chance to do it again. And as much as he's hate to admit it; he really wanted to do it.

"Well," he said, "There is a ball coming up, am I well enough to go to it?" He hoped she played into his little set up, If not, he had better think of a different way. Fortunately, though, she did.

She thought for a bit. "I guess so, but you will need to be very careful," she instructed. "If you start to feel weak then -" but Tavington cut her off.

"How about, instead of telling me what to do," (which he didn't like all too much to be honest), "you just come with me to the ball."

Kris just stared at him fro a few seconds. Did he just ask her to the ball, as in on a ate? She inwardly smiled. This would be the perfect opportunity to get close to him so she could escape.

She put on a sweet, innocent looking face and nodded, "Alright," she said. "I will got with you."

She hadn't expected to see the emotion that washed over his face. He looked as if he was relieved she said yes. That look on his face was gone in a second, though, and a look of indifference took its place.

"Good," he said, his voice lever. "I'll get a dress for you, along with other miscellaneous items."

She nodded and sat back. She was still trying to believe the look she had seen on his face. Could she not still carry on with her plan? Yes, she could. She was a patriot first and foremost, and he was the colonel for the British Green Dragoons. She would do this, and never look back…right?

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**ParijataMoon**** – **Guess what, Joelle…I have finally gotten it out. LOL Hopefully my next chapters won't be so long to get out.

**Rachel Pierce – **LOL, I'm not going to give out any details about what's going to happen. Though, I will tell you, this isn't like all the other one's you read where it's instant lovie dovie. It has a little twist to it.

**Liz-04 – **No, that part hasn't come yet. Though I think that will be coming soon. I know I get the chapters out slowly, but hopefully it will speed up soon.

**WoundedHeart – **Ha, I like that remark. He barely ever gets harmed, but when he does it's pretty badly.


	4. Getting Prepared

**A/N – **Hey everyone, I'm so sorry this is getting out a month later than what I had said but something unexpected happen in Tennessee that prevented me from writing. I won't say what it is in honor of those who would like to keep it private. Anyway, for the long wait I decided to make this chapter longer than usual, so hopefully you all won't hate me anymore.

-

**Chapter 4 – Getting Prepared**

For the next couple of hours Kris was fitted for a ball dress. She had never done this in her life before, and, frankly, she didn't like it. Every now and then the woman who was fitting her would stick her with a pin…and she knew it wasn't on accident.

And if that wasn't enough, Tavington was watching this all with that god forsaken smirk plastered onto his face. The while time, when she wasn't being stuck, she was glaring at him. "Do I have to be doing this? You already know my dress size!"

"Well, if course," he said still smirking. "That was just a lucky guess. Plus, a ball dress and a regular day dress fir differently." To tell the truth, he was liking this. He wasn't fond of the woman pricking her though. He didn't know why, but every time he saw her flinch he had to work to hold back a flinch himself.

The tailor, heaving a sigh of relief, sat back. "Done," she said not even trying to hold back the happiness in her voice. "Thank God," both the tailor and Kris muttered. They glared at each other and turned away. The tailor took the other dress off of her and threw her her dress. She then stormed out, happy to be gone.

Kris sighed in exasperation and quickly put on her dress, seeing as Tavington didn't seem to be leaving any time soon. Once her head pulled through it she looked over at him, having the intention to make a snide remark, but saw his head was turned from her out of respect. For a quick second a tinge of guilt grew in her but she immediately suppressed it. Now was not the time to feel compassion towards this man.

When Tavington heard the rustling of the dress cease he ventured to look over at her again. He saw her looking back at him so he quickly put on a look of indifference.

For a few seconds no one spoke. They just stared at each other. Soon the look on their faces began to soften. This is exactly what Kris needed. She had to get close to him if she had any hope of getting free. This wasn't long lived, though, for Tavington hardened his face when he realized what was happening. He had to be more careful of that. He wasn't sure he could fully trust her now.

He shook his head, trying to get his bearings back. "I will assist you back to your room so you can rest," he said. "I trust, if I keep your door unlocked you won't try to run away?" he asked.

She nodded her obedience. She went through hell to measure for that dress and she was going to wear it. Plus, she wanted to try and get as much information for the patriots as possible. Also, though she refused to admit it, she really wanted to go to the ball with him. There was just a pull, a drive, telling her she should.

He lead her back to her room and opened the door for her, as a gentleman should she noted. She saw an extra pillow and blanket neatly placed on her bed and once more guilt pained her. She felt horrible for what she was doing because he was really beginning to like her. She turned around to him and nodded. "Thank you," she whispered. "And. Please heed my word and don't over exert yourself."

He nodded, though he still didn't plan on listening to her. "I will allow you to walk around, but if I or anyone else catches you going anywhere near the doors you will be locked back up," he warned.

She nodded. She wouldn't run, not right now anyway, one, because she was still interested in everything, and two, because she knew that would be a really stupid move on her part. She then turned around and fixed the bed as comfortable as she could.

-

Just as Tavington closed the door, General O'Hara come up to him, "Lord General Cornwallis wishes to have a word with you," he said. Tavington nodded, doing his best to suppress rolling his eyes. Now hat did he want from him? He probably just wanted to berate him for being so careless.

He followed O'Hara down the stairs to Cornwallis's office. They both walked in and O'Hara took up his position by Cornwallis's side. Tavington watched O'Hara with a displeased look. _'Pansy'_, he called him in his head, "My Lord wished to see me?" he asked.

At first Cornwallis just ignored him but soon turned around. "I heard of your ambush," he said. "I trust you and your men weren't hurt badly?"

'_As if you care'_, Tavington thought but kept his mouth shut on that one. Instead he said, "Actually, my lord, I was alone."

"And what, pray tell, were you doing on your own?" Cornwallis asked eyeing him.

"I sent my troops out scouting as I rose ahead of them," he said really wishing he was some where else at the moment.

All Cornwallis did was wave off his reply. "That's no excuse. You should know to stay with people. This is enemy territory. They know the land better than is. I can't have one of my best officers killed because of his own stupidity."

Words couldn't express how much Tavington wanted to punch him, shoot him, do anything to cause him physical pain. But instead he refrained himself. "I'll be more careful in the future, my lord," he said, not really trying to hide the content in his voice. Cornwallis narrowed his eyes at him, but he just lifted his eyebrows as if to ask 'what-did-I-do'.

After a few seconds Cornwallis brushed it off and continued. "And the extent of your injuries?"

"My ribcage is bruised and I have twenty-five stitches on my stomach," he said reluctantly. He wasn't very fond of explaining his injuries.

Cornwallis nodded, "You are off duty until after the ball," he said and turned back to what he was previously doing, meaning that was the end of the discussion.

Tavington's eyes widened. "My Lord, if I may be so bold as to say I am perfectly capable of continuing on active duty."

Cornwallis sighed, aggravated at Tavington's persistence on this/ "That's the problem, Tavington, you are bold enough to question my word. Now, you are relieved of your duties until after the ball,"

Tavington opened his mouth to protest once more but was silenced by Cornwallis saying, "That's final!" Tavington clenched his fists at his sides. "Yes, my Lord," he hissed through clenched teeth.

He gave a curt bow and turned on his head. He was glad to be out of there, and very ticked he was put on inactive duty. They were in the height of the war and all he was aloud to do was sit inside all day. He went straight back to his room and slammed the door shut, no doubt rattling all the other ones on the floor.

-

Kris woke with a start when she heard a loud bang. At first she thought it was a gunshot, but she didn't see, nor hear any alarm being raised. She stood up, her curiosity getting the better of her, and slowly opened her door. She looked around the hallways bit saw nothing. But she did hear a continuous clanking noise, boot on hard wood. She realized it was coming from Tavington's room. She went over and knocked on his door.

Tavington had shed of his jacket, vest, and undershirt, reaming only in his britches. He was pacing his room, trying to work off his anger when he heard a knock coming from his door. He opened it, still angry, and found himself staring down at Kris. "What do you want?" he asked, not in the mood for talking.

Kris was getting real used to his attitude, so thought nothing of his tone. "I was making sure you didn't shoot somebody," she said. She had just realized he was only in his britches which caused her to blush a bit and look away.

"Why would I shoot someone on my side of the war?" he asked, calming down just a bit. He saw her look away and he rolled his eyes, though he didn't bother to get his shirt.

"Well, by the way you were pacing you seemed ready to kill someone," she pointed out. "What happened?"

He sighed and opened his door farther, stepping from the side to let her in. He would rather carry this conversation further in his room.

She hesitated a bit but finally decided to go in. She walked past him and surveyed the room as he shut the door. She noted it was much better than her room was, better furnished and it seemed more comfortable. He motioned for her to sit in a cushion chair positioned by the window and she complied. He brought his desk chair over and sat in front of her. "So…?" she asked when he said nothing.

"I've been relieved of my duties until after the ball, thanks to the stupid rebel who ambushed me," he said clearly ticked about it.

She stared at him. "That's it?" she asked. Why was he so mad over that? She would have thought he would have been happy about the time off, but then again he was very egotistical.

He caught the tone in her voice and stared at her. "For you information, I do not like just sitting back in the middle of a war." There was more reason behind it, of course, but he wasn't about to explain his reasons to her. He didn't like telling people of his relations any way.

She noticed he wasn't telling her something but, knowing better, she didn't push it. Part of her really wanted to know but another part couldn't care less. Plus, it was a good idea for her not to get to know him on a personal level. That wouldn't help any one when she ran.

After a few minutes of silence, no one knowing what to say, Tavington cleared his throat and stood up. "You should be getting to sleep. It's starting to get late. Not to mention I don't think it best if someone caught you leaving my room late at night."

This caused her to blush a bit as she nodded and stood up as well. Tavington escorted her over to her room and they stood out side of the door. "I know you may not want to hear this, but time off from your duties is exactly what you need to heal quickly and properly. Also, I will need to change your bandages tomorrow morning."

Tavington sighed and nodded, "All right. Of I wake first, I will wake you. If vise versa, feel free to wake me." He then took her right hand lightly in his and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles, staring into her sea green eyes.

He then promptly left, leaving Kris feeling flustered, staring at her hand where she still felt the tingling of his warm lips against her flesh. "This is not happening," she muttered as she walked into her room.

-

**Replies**

**DarkPhoenix-24 – **I'm sorry it took so long to update, but I hope you liked it.

**SassyBrunette – **Oops, my fault. I'm sorry about that little mistake. I hope I didn't make that mistake in this one. I proof read it but I could have over looked something.

**WoundedHeart – **Sorry about the late update, but I agree with you. She just could be falling in love with Tavington.

**ParijataMoon – **Hey girl! Here's that update I've been telling you about for what...a week now? LOL

**Rachel Pierce – **Awww, I'm so glad to know that I inspired you. I never thought my writing was that good, but thank you a lot. Believe it or not you inspired me to keep writing when you told me I inspired you (if that made any sense at all. LOL) I'm looking forward to reading your Tavington story.


	5. Surprise, Surprise

**A/N – **I am so sorry this is out so late. School has been … hard. Despite the fact that I'm failing one class at the moment, the rest is okay. And when it wasn't school, it was writer's block. But this chapter should be one of my longest, so I hope that makes up for it. Once again, I'm really sorry for it being so long, and JoJo, this is for you girl. Love you!

**Ch. 5**

Kris found she couldn't sleep at all that night. Her mind was reeling, a long with her emotions. She couldn't tell which were hers and which were just one-time things. She was a patriot; she shouldn't be having these emotions, and thoughts for that matter, with the colonel of the British Green Dragoons. Besides, once she's gone, she'll probably never see him again.

She lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling. What did all this mean? Was she, in fact, falling for the colonel? But, then again, how could she? He had murdered her father right in front of her eyes. With that in mind, she curled up on the bed and fell asleep. He was a cold-blooded murderer and she refused to be a part of that.

-

Tavington lay in his four-poster, mentally kicking himself for kissing Kris. What was wrong with him? She wouldn't want him kissing her, even if it was just on her hand. He raided her home, killed her father, and on top of all that he kidnapped her.

Besides, in his military role, he shouldn't even be having these feelings. If any of his enemies found this out they could use it to their advantage. They could harm her for it ... but they wouldn't, would they? She is a patriot; they wouldn't harm one of their own.

Maybe he should just release her and forget about everything. No, he couldn't do that either. He needs any information he can get. God, what was she doing to him? He is all ready forgetting why he even captured her in the first place.

He shook his head, rubbing his aching eyes, and turned over in exhaustion. The first chance he got he was going to send off the letter. He had to get her away from himself as soon as possible. The sooner he did this, the better for all.

He soon fell asleep, but, unfortunately, it was not the sleep he would prefer. Unbeknown to him, as he had been ranting about Cornwallis, a fever was working up in his body. And, as everyone knows, with a fever comes fever dreams.

Flashes; that was all they really were. Some of them he couldn't even make out. But most of them he knew, and wish he didn't. They flashed before him quickly, only giving him about a few seconds to memorize them. Once they flashed on, they were gone and a new horror was placed before him.

He writhed around, trying to make the images stop. No matter how hard he thrashed, or shut his eyes, they gazed back at him. It didn't matter what he did, he couldn't close his minds eye to the images.

They came from his childhood, that much he was positive on. Though, he couldn't place some of them, he vividly saw the image of his drunken father. He saw him drinking, gambling, chain-smoking, everything he could to trash the family name.

And his mother, his dear mother just sat on the side watching, knowing there was nothing she could do to stop him. What hurt her most, though, was watching him go around to the local prostitutes. Through all of his father's fault, his mother still loved him and he had known she was slowly dieing inside.

In almost every image that showed, he saw his mother in the background. Seeing how distraught she was caused him to fight harder against the images and pictures.

What finally woke him was a searing pain, and a wet sticky feeling on his abdomen. He looked out the window and saw the sun was just rising. He turned to his wound and cursed when he saw the stitches had popped. He knew he had to have Kris restitch it, s he pushed his nightmare to the back of his mind. He wasn't about to tell her his history.

He carefully sat up and leaned against the headboard of his bed. He leant on it so he could take the bloodied bandages off of himself. A she did this; blood was flowing down from the split stitches, soaking onto the brim of his trousers.

He cursed lightly when he heard a knock at the door. He could tell, by how soft the knock was, that it was Kris. He got out of his bed, clutching his side, and went to his door to open it.

There was only a dull aching pain in his side, but Kris could tell something had happened. She looked down to his stitches and saw his bloodied hand covering them. She sighed upon seeing it. "Go lay down while I get supplies," she said ushering him to the bed.

"I have supplies in here," he said as he silently protested being ushered to the bed. "I know how to give stitches, I can do it myself."

She shook her head, "No, go lay down and I will do it." She took a hold of his shoulders and pushed him in the direction of his bed once more.

"I can do it myself," he repeated starting to get annoyed. "Besides, you don't even know where the supplies are."

"I'm doing it, and you will tell me where they are."

"And if I don't?" he asked looking at her.

"If you don't … then I will get the supplies from downstairs," she replied looking back at him.

"Why do you care so much, any way?" he asked as he finally surrendered and lay down on the bed.

This question caught her off guard, and was actually a question she wanted an answer too herself. "I … " she had no idea how to respond to that. "I … don't. I'm just doing what I have to do to … to insure my safety.

Tavington could tell that was not the truth just by the way she was stuttering, but he did not know what the truth was. Actually, deep down he thought he knew, and he was hoping he was right, but he refused to admit it. He would get his hopes up, and then for what … nothing. "Top drawer in the wardrobe," he said.

She nodded and got all the supplies she would need; stitches, needle, medical wrap, and a cloth. He also had a water basin that she got water from. She cleaned off the blood, stemming the flow a bit. She then took the needle and carefully took out the original stitches. She wiped away the blood that had flaked off of the stitches and cleaned off the needle. She threaded it and then restitched the wound.

As she worked, Tavington watched her. He could not help but watch as her beautiful face contracted with concentration. It wasn't for a while until he realized what he was doing. Once he did he shook his head. How many times would he have to reprimand himself before he got it through his head?

"Finished," she said as she picked everything up. She then went back, ensuring the bandage was around him tight enough. She wondered what happened to make them pop, but she said nothing about it, knowing better than to mention his weakness, or anything that might pertain to it.

-

The next few days, Kris and Tavington really saw nothing of each other. Of course Kris would check his wound at least once every day, but that was about it. She spent her time in the medical room but hardly anyone came.

Tavington had given her more freedom, so she spent some time walking around the plantation. She would go about gathering as much information as she could. Everything she learned she kept tucked away in the back of her mind. If she wrote any of it down then there was a chance someone would find it, and that would not be good. Though she was able to pick up quite a few pieces of information, none of it was really anything the patriots could use. That is, until she found an interesting piece of paper lying folded up on the ground. This paper contained a list of raids that were scheduled. She smiled to herself, this was jus the thing she needed. There were too many dates for her to memorize so she had no choice but to take it. She would have to make sure she found a good hiding place for it.

She went straight to her room, the paper clutched in her hand so no one would see it, and looked for the best place. But of course, she found no where to place it. She settled upon leaving it under her pillow. No one was going into her room anyway so no one should find it.

There was then a knock at her door, causing her to jump at least ten feet into the air. She tried steadying her breathing and got up to answer it. Standing before her was the dress maker (not at all happy to see her), holding up the dress. Kris stepped to the side and the woman walked in, laying the dress on the bed along with a bag full of stuff. "Everything you need for the ball tomorrow is in the bag," she said before walking out. As she left Kris could hear her muttering about something being inappropriate, and loyalists with 'dirty patriots' but she really didn't listen to her. It didn't really matter any way.

She sat down on the side of the bed and started looking through the bag. The woman was right, everything she needed was in the bag; shoes, make-up, corset, and ribbons for her hair.

As she took everything out one by one something fell to the floor. She place down what she was holding and picked up on envelope with a letter as well as something else inside of it. She saw her name written elegantly on the front. She slowly opened it and pulled out the letter. It was written in the same hand as the front of the envelope.

_Kris,_

_Though I cannot say I look forward to the ball tomorrow night, I do look forward to going with you. I have procured everything you should need to get ready. If there is anything else you need, please ask and I will get it._

_Truly yours,_

_W. Tavington_

_P.S. There is a gift I got for you in the envelope._

Kris read this over several times, not believing it. Did he really mean that? Did he really look forward to going with her?

She slowly placed the note to the side and took out the other object in the envelope. It folded out of her hand and she gasped at what she beheld, a gold necklace with a heart-shaped pendant connected to it. In the centre of the heart was a blue-green gem, matching her dress as well as bringing out her eyes. And she could tell, just by holding the necklace in her hand, that this necklace was real and not a cheap imitation.

-

**A/N2 - **Yay, chapter is finally out!! Let's all party. Well, I guess I should start on the next one now, shouldn't I? It's off to the drawing board.

**Darkphoenix24** – Thank you for your review, though I wish I could get my updates out sooner.

**Rachel Pierce **– I know exactly how you feel about original, and though it mine isn't real original right now, I think the ending should be. Well, I'm sure people have seen it, but hopefully not the way I'm putting it.

**ParijataMoon **– JOJO!!!! Told you I would update before the week-end. LOL I understand why you didn't believe me but I finally got it.

**Italian Rose** – Thank you so much. I'm hoping to get this finished sometime before next year. LOL

**Harleyteen **– Sorry for the long delay. I'm sure we could all think of nice ways to keep Tavington occupied with his time off. LOL Yes, I have a dirty little mind, but that's what I'm here for.

**Angelofire** – It was your review that finally got me off my lazy but and working on this chapter. Thanks for that! I needed the extra boost.


	6. Defenses Fall

**A/N: **Damn, I bet all of you thought I was dead. None of you know how much work I've been doing, and how much drama has been going on in school and in life. But, I'll do you all the favor and save the horrible details for another time. Right now, let's just get on with the next chapter. Oh, by the way, I am expecting to finish this real soon. Yay! I think only a couple of more chapters should do it, depending on how much I put into each chapter.

I have been reading through my stories and I am appalled at myself for how many mistakes are in them. I just can't believe it! I read through most of the chapter, but not all of it. I want to get it out as soon as possible, and I'm trying to beta it myself. So please bear with me with all the mistakes and everything. This summer, if I ever get the time, I might go in and correct everything.

-

**Ch. 6 – Defenses Fall**

-

Kris stood in front of a floor length mirror staring at her reflection. She was leaving for the ball in just thirty minutes and so many emotions flew through her system she was not even sure if she would cry or jump for joy. As she looked at her reflection she was not so sure she recognized the person staring back. Her father had been a wealthy man, but never had she been dolled up like this. Her hair fell down her shoulders in ringlets, looking like a chocolate waterfall. The dress was made perfectly, fitting her every curve.

And the necklace, the necklace she spent countless hours contemplating over was draped around her delicate neck, resting right above her breasts. She fingered the necklace, running her fingers over the pendent lightly. She had decided to wear it tonight and when she made her escape she would leave it for him.

She turned from her image and looked around the unfamiliar room. Early in the afternoon she had been shown to this room, under orders of Tavington, so getting ready would be easier. The room was considerably bigger than hers and well furnished. It contained a queen-sized bed, vanity, full length mirror and a water basin for private use. She had been, and still was, greatly appreciative and so did not complain to getting ready alone.

It was not long into her musings when she heard a soft, but firm, knock at the door. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply before moving to open it. Standing before her, of course, was Tavington, but she could not believe the way he looked. By all appearances he was dressed and groomed as always, but she knew he had taken care in dressing. His hair was queued perfectly, his uniform was pressed and straight and a dress saber rested at his hip. As well as looks, her senses were heavenly abused by his scent of pine and cinnamon.

"Good evening, Miss McAdams," Tavington said as he bent over her hand and kissed it softly. "You look lovely," he added when he was standing straight once more.

Kris blushed at his gentleman fashion and nodded, curtseying as well. "And you, Colonel, look splendid."

He smiled to her, a small hint of a smirk, but a smile nonetheless. "Shall we proceed?" he asked holding out his arm for her to take.

She hesitated, but took his arm anyway. "We shall," she said as he led her to the staircase. She was getting more and more nervous as they descended the flights of stairs, her grip on Tavington the only thing keeping her from fleeing. She knew she did not belong with these people. She was a hostage for God's sake, and here she was dressed in a regal ball gown and going to one of their balls. If there ever was a time for irony, now would be it.

They paused outside the door for a minute as a guard announced them. Kris's grip on Tavington tightened as the doors were opened, allowing everyone to see them. The music that had been playing in the background abruptly stopped along with the merriment. Everyone turned to look at them, the British colonel and American patriot.

Kris self-consciously stepped back a little as all eyes fell on them. Thankfully, one look from Tavington was all it took for the people to turn away and the music to begin once more.

Tavington squeezed her hand in reassurance and led her off to the side of the dance floor. They walked to the back of the great hall, meeting up with Lord Cornwallis. "My lord," Tavington said bowing, Kris curtseying as well.

"Tavington," Cornwallis acknowledged, turning from the woman he had been conversing with. "Good to see you were well enough to make an appearance."

Tavington held in a sigh, getting aggravated with people making such a fuss about his injuries. "Yes, my lord," he said trying to keep back his anger. "My injuries are not as grave as everyone believes."

"Do not try to undermine my authority," Cornwallis grumbled to him. "Now," he said raising his hand to stop the potential protest from his subordinate. "Enjoy the night and dance with some fine women."

"I have a date, my lord, I'm not dancing with numerous women," Tavington said. Why would he do something like ask for a date and then dump her for the night? He was a gentleman and would do no such thing.

"Yes, well I meant British women. I'm sure Miss McAdams won't mine," Cornwallis said glancing to Kris.

Kris glared at him. Who did he think he was, saying these things, and with her standing right in front of him no less? She was just about to speak her mind when Tavington cut in before she could.

"No, I will not dance with other women, even if I did not have a date," he said hotly. He gave a stiff bow, excusing himself and Kris quickly, practically storming off.

When they were a safe distance away, Kris began her tantrum. "Who the hell does he think he is? Doesn't he know it's rude to speak of someone like that, especially if that person is standing two feet in front of his nose?"

"No he doesn't, or he just doesn't care," Tavington said coolly.   
"You get used to it and learn to ignore it."

"He does that to you?" she asked somewhat shocked. "I know you both don't like each other, but you are his best commanding officer." And as much as she hated it admit that, it was true. He got the job done no matter what.

Tavington laughed at that. "And you think that makes a difference?" he asked. "He feels that since he's the one in command he can do what he pleases with no consequences. You know, kind of like me."

She rolled her eyes, knowing that was the truth. "Must run in the English blood," she mumbled. That's what the king did, it was no surprise his subjects would do the same.

For the rest of the night they both stood off to the side away from the clutter of people. Tavington hated these events and Kris just wanted to stay away from all the air-heads. Every now and then they would take something from a tray that would pass by, but they mainly stayed to themselves.

After a while of standing in silence, Tavington had taken to glancing at Kris. He could not believe how beautiful she looked. She was so young and lately she had not been able to take care of herself like every other woman here, but her beauty easily surpassed every woman present.

Kris caught Tavington looking at her and she blushed, turning her head so she looked any where else but him. This could not be happening to her. She had confessed to herself earlier that he was extremely handsome, but she could not like him! It would ruin everything and she just could not risk it.

Tavington paused a bit, contemplating his next action. Should he dance with her? What could possibly go wrong with dancing? Of course people would talk, that's all they ever did, but no one would confront him and he was sure no one would do anything to her.

To hell with it all, he decided. He positioned himself so he was in front of her. He waited until she turned to him before he said anything. "Would you care to dance?" he asked looking into her eyes.

Her eyes widened, wondering if she heard him correctly. Her mind started racing, having no idea what she should do. She could not get in deep with him; it could only spell disaster for everyone. But then again, what harm could possibly come from dancing? It is innocent enough … right? She nodded and Tavington took her hand and lead her out to the dance floor.

After a slight pause Tavington lead her into the Waltz. He was actually surprised at how well she knew the dance. He easily weaved her in and out of other dancing couples. Then again it really was not too hard as the couples seemed to move out of their way deliberately. Whether that was fear of him or fear of her he was not sure on. He paid no attention to it, though. They stayed out of their way and that was all that mattered.

"I had no idea you could dance so elegantly," Tavington whispered to her as they twirled around the floor. It seemed to him as if she was born to dance.

"And you, Colonel, as well. I'm quite impressed. But then again, with your upbringing and status, I shouldn't be so surprised you dance fabulously." She smiled up to him and it was true. He danced just as well as he battled, with the same grace and flow.

Both their eyes locked with each other, neither having the strength to look away. Tavington stared intently into Kris's eyes as if searching down to the depths of her soul. He gaze delved deep into her, searching for what he knew had to be there. Things were going so perfectly, there had to be a deeper reason for this. Something was bound to go wrong, that is just the way things go. But searching her eyes, her very soul, he did not detect anything.

Kris, in turn, stared up into his eyes. She knew what he was doing, and she prayed he did not detect anything. But a strange occurrence was going on; Tavington's eyes – along with the rest of his body – relaxed and softened. It was as if he was shedding his hard exterior, and showing the man that lay beneath. She began to search him, and look into him, and what she beheld changed everything. She no longer saw a man intent on eliminating everything in his path. She viewed a man who guarded himself to protect himself – and who was opening up to her.

Tavington's side soon started to ache from all the strain being put onto it by the dancing. He soon had to stop so he led her off the dance floor, slightly holding his side to add pressure to it. "Let us go outside into the fresh air," he said.

Kris nodded and followed him out the back door and into the vast garden. They walked into a little section of the garden near to a water fountain. "Let's sit here. Your side is hurting and you should rest," she said sitting on the wide edge of the fountain.

"It is just a dull ache, really," he said but sat down beside her. He sighed in relief when the pressure was slightly lifted.

She smiled a bit, "But pain nonetheless," she said looking at him. "And you return to duty soon. You need to be in shape."

He nodded a gleam in his eye at the mention of returning to his men. "Indeed," he said. He looked down at his hands nervously, and then looked back over to Kris. "I must admit, though," he said softly. "I will miss not being able to see you when I please."

Kris abruptly turned her full attention to him, startled by his remark. When she looked into his eyes, she realized he was not taunting herm he was serious. She had no idea what to say. What could she possibly say? "I … I will miss you, too," she finally whispered. Of course, she could say the truth.

Tavington nodded, the gleam growing brighter in his eyes. "In a few days I leave for battle. I will be gone for a while. I was hoping you would … you know … allow me to write to you while I am away." He gazed at her intently, wondering if he did the right or wrong thing.

At first Kris could not move or answer. Did she hear correctly? Why would he want to write to her? She was a hostage, of no importance. Now she really was at a loss for words. If she said yes she would more than likely wind up liking him and that will get everyone in trouble. But if she said no, she knew for a fact she would regret it because she already liked him. "I … you …" she breathed deeply trying to make herself for a sentence. "Yes, I will allow you to write."

Tavington smiled when she said yes. He actually smiled. It was not a fake smile with a smirk hidden beneath, just a smile. When Kris saw him smiling to her, and when he sighed in relief, she knew she made the right decision.

-

**DarkPhoenix-24 **– School is a bitch. And this week I have exams. Thanks to the pestering of a friend who wanted this out, and wouldn't leave me alone I was finally able to get it out. But thank God summer is coming soon and then updates shouldn't be that hard to get out.

**Chloe04** – Thank you, and here is another update (obviously. LOL)

**Rubyvenus** – Yay, that what I was aiming for. I'm trying to make it as different from the other stories as I possibly can.

**Jojo** – I never said it was the ending … little missy. (I like that one. LOL) But the ending is coming up soon, two more chapters or say. It all depends on how much I want to put in the chapters.

**Harleyteen** – Thanks!

**ZukoLuver** – I know, doesn't that suck. But she's slowly learning to like him back.

**Rachel Pierce** – It's a rare occurrence indeed, Tavington being nice. Let's hope it stays that way.


	7. Inside Their Feelings

**A/N: **Finally, another chapter. My stupid school makes me read books every summer so my time has been consumed with that. One book was great but the other I couldn't stand so it took me a while. And not only that but I have to write reports on both books. You think they'd let me at least have summer off from school work. But here is another chapter. The next chapter might be the last. And, if you can bear with me through another, I have gotten an idea for a sequel. Tell me what you think on that proposition. I don't want to commit to it yet, but I'm thinking about it.

**-**

**CH. 7 – Inside Their Feelings**

**-**

As Kris and Tavington were at the ball a maid went into Kris' room with a basket full of clean sheets, blankets, and pillows. Tavington had ordered these things be arranged on her bed to give her more comfort at night. But as the maid took the pillows off, she found something interesting. She picked up a piece of paper and unfolded it, her eyes widening when she saw what it was.

-

Tavington and Kris were still outside by the fountain when they heard running footsteps. They looked up to see a maid coming towards them, a mad but also frightened look in her eyes. Tavington stood up, Kris standing behind him, as the maid stopped and gave a rushed curtsey. "Colonel, sir, I think you should come see something," she said looking back at Kris.

Tavington looked back to Kris as well, who shrugged to him. He sighed and followed behind this woman, wondering what was so important she had to disturb them.

Kris followed closely behind, wondering the same thing. As they walked through the estate and up two flights of stairs her heart began to bear rapidly. When they headed down the hall in the direction of her room she felt as if her heart would beat right out of her chest. Her feet became like led and she fell behind as they all stopped at her door.

Tavington gave her a look wondering what this was about. The maid led them in and pointed to the bed where a scrap of paper lay. He picked it up, looking at Kris as he opened it. As he read it he tensed up, anger seeping into him. After he read the list of scheduled attacks his eyes shot up to her, piercing her with his icy glare. "How did you come by this?" he asked when he could not think of a single decent thing to say.

"I found it," she whispered. Her eyes held the sadness and fright she was feeling, wishing she had gotten rid of it. But Tavington was too blind from his rage to notice.

"Where did you find it?" he asked angrily. "Someone's desk? After all I did to make you feel like a guest this is how you repay me?"

"Those are my people out there you are killing! I found it on the floor and if you people were so careless with it then I was taking it," she hissed, but not daring to raise her voice to him.

"Those people are fighting against their king and deserve to be punished."

"We want our freedom," she said dangerously close to yelling.

He glared at her for a moment, then folded the paper and put it in his coat pocket. "Then freedom is what you shall get," he said coldly. "As I told you, I leave for battle soon. A guard will be placed on you at all times and when I return, we will discuss your … freedom."

"I don't need a babysitter," she argued, her eyes narrowing. "I have not had one for a while and I have not tried running away."

"You may not have tried," Tavington argues, "but it appears you were certainly planning it." He stared at her through guarded eyes for a moment, not entirely sure what to do or say next.

"I thought you were different," he finally managed out. "I thought even though we were on opposite sides, we could see past it and … and get along. I should have realized no such thing could be. No friendship or love could ever survive." He stared at her for a bit, wishing he could just wake up from this nightmare. It did not take long for him to realize this was not a dream; his worst nightmare was now reality.

As he turned away Kris moved forward and grabbed his arm. Tavington, wait," she said turning him around.

He looked at her for a moment before shrugging her off. "I will return from battle in a few weeks," he said before walking out and locking the door.

Kris watched him leave not only because she could not believe what was happening, but also because she just could not move. It was as if his icy demeanor froze her to the spot. When she heard the click of the lock she collapsed on the bed. Her hands cradled her head as she completely lost it, crying without a care for who heard.

On the other side of the door Tavington almost fell against it in grief. He clenched his left fist and used his right to rub his eyes. Why, why did this have to happen? Why this, why now? Oh yeah, that's right, because they're on the opposite sides of a goddamn war!

As he leaned against the door he became aware of a noise coming from inside the room. He listened and realized she was crying. He was about to walk in and comfort her but stopped himself at the last minute. He will not talk to her; he could not talk to her, not after this. His hand that was lifted to the door knob fell and to stop his self further he stormed away.

He entered his room across the hall and slammed the door shut, locking it for good measure. A maid knocked just at that moment, which set him off. "Go away!" he yelled as he threw his coat down. Surprisingly the scrambling footsteps of the maid running away did not make him feel any better. He violently shed the rest of his clothes, remaining only in his undershirt and trousers. He then unqueued his hair and plopped on his bed.

Laying there, staring up at the ceiling, his mind went through everything. As he reminisced on his feelings and actions, a lone tear escaped his eye. At first he was shocked that he was even capable of shedding tears, but when the shock wore off he wiped it away. But as more fell he just buried his head in his pillow and allowed them their journey.

-

The next day Tavington woke up with soar and blood shot eyes. At first he just lay on his bed staring at the wall before finally sitting up. He looked around the room a bit. Though he spent countless nights in this room he never really took the time to look around it. And now he was heading off to battle. He's been in numerous battles before, but something felt different about this one.

He sighed and got up, getting dressed, and starting to pack to leave later in the day. This will be the first time in a while he's been back on duty, and he was excited. He was getting restless and now he would head straight for battle.

Once he was dressed and packed he went to Kris' room. He prepared himself for the sight of her before he knocked, not waiting for an answer before he just walked in. Though he had prepared himself, the sight of her made him stop in his tracks.

Kris lay on the bed curled up in a ball with tear stains on her cheeks and red eyes that matched his when he woke. She turned her head when she heard the door open but turned back when she saw who it was.

"Come to shoot me?" she asked when neither of them made a sound. When she had glanced at him she had seen his gun and wondered if he decided to just kill her.

"No," he answered after a moment of shock. He could not believe she really thought he meant to kill her. Was she so blind she could not even see his feelings for her? If she could not notice his feelings, then there was no point in having them. The only problem was he could not get rid of them that easily.

He straightened his back and cleared his throat, forcing his voice to sound stronger. "I am leaving at noon for battle. I have come to tell you that I will speak of this to no one. You will carry on as you have been but under heavy watch. When I return, I will handle sending you back."

Kris looked at him startled. She had expected him to yell at her, to threaten her life, to do something more than stand there heart broken. But he did nothing.

"Tavington," she said softly with the intent to apologize, even beg if she had to. She had to explain herself. But she was silenced, though, by Tavington raising his hand.

"Goodbye, Miss McAdams," he said walking out and locking the door. He went down stairs to a group of guards giving them orders to watch Kris closely. "I want eyes on her at all times. But if she's in her room or the facilities stand right out the door. I don't want any indecent moves, or you will all pay dearly." He may be heart broken because of her but he would not stand for her to be harmed in any way.

-

Kris slowly sat back down on the bed. This was not supposed to happen; she was not supposed to fall in love with him! She was not some damsel in distress who needed saving. But she did fall in love, and now she had to live with the consequences.

Everything was all wrong now. First she was going to run and hate him, then she was going to stay and love him, now she was being forced away even though she loves him. She could not live with this hole in her. She was either going to convince him to give her another chance, or she would die without him.

She curled up on the bed once more, blinking her soar eyes. Her mind started reeling with the things she could and would say to him. She could no screw this chance up for she knew it would be her last one.

**-**

**JoJo – **Guess what JoJo, this chapter came out before school started! LOL Yeah, four days before it started but it still came out. One more chapter and I think that will do it.

P.S. – good job on the bio exam. ;)

**Darkphoenix24 – **Thank you. I need to watch The Patriot badly. LOL I'm starting to have withdrawals.

**Chloe04 – **Tavington being nice is a good change, one I wish I could do more of, but sadly he doesn't want to cooperate.


	8. Life or Death?

Chapter 8 – Life or Death?

As the blazing sun chased away all the shadows Tavington was getting ready to leave for camp. Once he made sure all his men (and himself) were fit and ready he mounted his horse and faced his men. "In a few hours we will be engaged in battle. Every one needs to keep their head in gear, understood?" When he received confirmation he continued. "This is not one of our rounds; they expect us and we are on their grounds. They have the upper hand, but we will take it from them." His men cheered as their horses began to dance. "Now move out."

Once all his men were out the gate Tavington looked back at Middleton Place. He could not believe so much had occurred within the walls of that simple building. He had found love, lost love, experienced nervousness, joy and even enjoyed the company of a rebel. And now just looking at the walls he could feel the hands of claustrophobia squeezing the breath out of him. This feeling was too much so he turned away before he lost control. Speeding out of the gate he pushed all thoughts of love and life out of his mind, all he needed to concentrate on was the battle ensuing.

-

Tavington watched the fighting unfold as he waited at the top of a hill for his que. He couldn't help but smirk at the petty attempt of the traitors. They had no hope of ever defeating His Majesty's army. He had to admit, though, it did give him some amusement.

As his eyes glanced over the field he caught sight of someone familiar, and it wasn't one of his own. His teeth gritted as he watched his _ghost_. That man was no more a ghost than he was, and he was ready to shed Martin's blood to prove it.

Gripping the reigns of his horse, Tavington turned to his second in command. "Prepare to charge," he ordered as he prepared himself. He paid no heed to ­­­Captain Bordon's protests. Instead he unsheathed his sword and gave the order to advance, his men having no choice but to follow suit.

He pushed his commanding officer out of his mind; he pushed Kris out. Tavington forgot everything except his growing fury and hate for this one militiaman. He would let out all his rage on him, making him pay for everything be it his fault or not.

"Charge!" he yelled as he advanced down the hill, his eyes never leaving the object of his fury. Nothing was in his mind except the pain he had suffered because of this war. Anger twisted his features as he charged towards Martin, forcing his horse to its full speed. He was met by a band of American soldiers at the bottom of the hill. It wasn't much work to parry his way through the crowd of traitors, getting through to his real target. But on his way he made sure to cut down as many of those rebels as he could, eliminating the enemy one life at a time.

Taking a glance around Tavington spotted the ruins that they fought by. He smirked, thinking it as a symbol for the future. Ruins was exactly what this country was built upon, the ruined lived which immigrated to these lands to start a new life. And ruins were what this country-wanna-be would always remain. He would make sure of that, if he had to kill all of them himself.

Once these thoughts circulated through his head he felt more power within himself. He was capable of anything; he was virtually unstoppable. He continued to glance around, his fists tightening around the reigns with anticipation. Martin soon came into his view and he smirked once more. Now was the time to finish this once and for all. If he killed the man, then he would kill the idea. _This shouldn't be too hard anyway_, he thought as he positioned his horse to charge. _After all, I did kill two of his sons. Grief is never an ally._

Self-confidence and rage blinded Tavington so much he didn't realize Martin preparing for him. Once he started to charge he didn't have the time to stop, and it would have been too late anyway. He registered something wasn't right in mid-air. He landed with a thud and was temporarily paralyzed. He wheezed trying to get the air back into his lungs, and once he felt he could move he stood up on shaky legs. Looking around himself he couldn't find Martin until he realized he was turned around. After he made sure he could stand without swaying he turned around to face Martin.

When he turned and found Martin he saw the gun that was aimed at his heart. His mind instantly went on alert but his body remained calmed. Becoming distressed on the outside was the first way to get one's self killed so he made sure to remain nonchalant. Right as Martin went to pull the trigger an explosion erupted behind him, knocking off his aim. Instead of the bullet finding his heart, it found his left shoulder. A searing pain ripped through his shoulder and traveled its way through his being, but all he did was grit his teeth against it. He would worry about wounds later; right now he had a mission to complete.

The two enemies engaged in weapon-on-weapon combat. Tavington thrusted and parried with his sword as Martin tried to hack away with his hatchet, the one that got him through so much blood shed during the French and Indian War. He was convinced it would now get him through this war, and then would retire permanently. Both soldiers were able to leave their marks on the other, but neither would give in to the pain. They both had a purpose, and they both were determined to see it through.

Martin was brave, Tavington would give him that, but he was brave to the point of stupidity. The favors soon leaned towards Tavington as he disarmed his opponent. Never one to play by the rules, he did his share of kicking Martin while he was down – just long enough for the war to end, and for him to remain alive.

He glared at the back of Martin as the American flag flew around the two. "Kill me before the war is over, will you?" he asked Martin venomously. "It would appear you are not the better man." No, Tavington was better, better than the whole Martin family put together. Those fools tried and tried to kill him and never could do it, and now he would destroy their leader.

He spared a second to let his words sink into Martin's thick skull before he continued with his revenge. Pulling his arm back he prepared to strike with all his rage. Everything he had came back to him now as he swung his sword to decapitate Martin in one clean cut. But he had not prepared for retaliation from Martin, and a new pain sparked through him.

Tavington's hand groped at the foreign object, which now invaded his insides. He knew what had happened, but he couldn't come to terms with it. Was this it? He came all this way to just die now? He found no answers to the questions circulating through his mind. But it didn't matter, because soon he forgot what questions he was even asking. His mind grew foggy as his body became limp, falling heavily onto the weapon in his gut.

He stared at Martin as he became weaker and weaker. Why, again, was he weak? He couldn't remember. It felt like a memory or a nightmare being relived. But as he looked at Martin he knew it was happening now, in the present. Martin was speaking, but his voice sounded meters away. What was he saying exactly? Something about his sons?

He could spare no time on these new questions as once more pain spread through him, this time originating from the middle of his chest. His eyes widened as he felt the puncture of his ribs. This pain was different from the others. It felt as if fire was growing inside him. Of course all his other wounds felt as if they were on fire, but this one was more intense. This pain blocked all the others out, demanding to be felt. As quickly as it came, the object was yanked out, breaking his ribs even more. Blood flowed freely from the wounds dotting his body, and with it flowed his consciousness. All that was left to him was darkness. There was no past, no present, and there most certainly was no future.

-

Kris sat in the room that had been her work area since she had arrived at Middleton Place. But right now no work was being done. There was hardly anyone at the plantation home except for the odd soldier who had gotten leave from the battle that took place not far. And thankfully all of them left her alone. She just sat in the middle of the room on the exact cot Tavington had sat on when he arrived hurt. She looked down at the sprinkle of blood on the cot and sighed. Something was going to happen and she knew it. How could it not happen? Things always happened like this. She had long given up on happy endings since her family was killed and she would not have one either. Whether Tavington would be killed or never speak to her again, one way or another things would not end well. But she was still determined to do her part to change the hands of Fate.

Commotion soon broke out in the front parlor, bringing Kris out of her wonderings. She stood up and went to the doorway, looking out to see what was going on. General Cornwallis stalked into the front, surrounded by either angry or disheartened soldiers.

"Damn him!" Cornwallis was shouting, destroying any object within his way. "He cost me the war, all because of his inability to listen to directions."

Kris inched from the room a little to better listen to what was going on. The war was over, and the Americans won? Kris couldn't help but smile at this joyous news, but something inside was stopping her from being completely happy. The war was over, which meant all the British soldiers – including Tavington – would leave for England. She would never see him again, never be able to fix things.

She looked around for Tavington, but couldn't find him in the swarm of soldiers. He had to be there somewhere. He was a colonel; he should be with all the other ranking soldiers. But he was missing. Her heart seemed to speed up and stop all at once when the worse cased scenario entered her mind. He was dead, that was all it could be.

She followed behind Cornwallis's entourage to try and gather as much information as she could. Maybe … maybe he was just wounded and couldn't come back. These soldiers didn't have a scratch on them, so they didn't enter battle. But maybe he did and that was what was holding him back.

"Where is that blasted man anyway?" Cornwallis shouted over his shoulder as he entered his study. The doors remained open so Kris listened at it, waiting for the response.

Silence was all that could be heard for a few moments as everyone looked at the other, none of them wanting to tell the news. Finally a captain stepped forward from the back. "He was found on the battlefield."

Cornwallis looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "And?" he asked, knowing there was more.

"And he was pronounced dead."

Once more silence rang through the room, but to Kris it was as if she would go deaf with the loudness of her heart. It beat against her ribcage as if demanding to be released. She clutched her chest as if in pain, the room spinning. Shaking her head she muttered to herself, grasping the wall for support. She fell against it and immediately several officers came to see if she was okay, but she took no notice of them. She looked forward, towards the open doors of the mansion. Before anyone could stop her she flew down the steps of the porch and jumped on a horse that had not yet been taken to the stables.

She raced towards the battlefield, pushing the horse more and more with every second. She knew time was against her and she was not going to spare any for Fate to intervene once more. Fate was greedy and she took this opportunity to be as well. This was her life, and she would be damned if she just stood back and allowed it to be taken away.

Once arriving at the site she saw a camp off to her right. She recognized British uniforms so she headed for it, jumping off the horse before it could come to a complete stop. She raced through the camp, looking for anyone who could help her. Soon she spotted a doctor who didn't look too busy so she went over to him.

"Please, sir," she begged, grasping on to his sleeve as if her life depended on it. "You must show me where Colonel Tavington is."

The doctor just stared at her at first, debating on whom she was and what she wanted with the Colonel. Kris grew restless and yanked the sleeve a bit. "Please!" she cried, her eyes pleading to be listened to.

"Alright," the doctor sighed and showed her to a tent at the back of the camp. "I must warn you, though, the Colonel took quite a beating."

Kris said nothing but just entered the tent quietly, the doctor staying behind. She stood at the entrance as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. Once she could see she looked around herself, at first refusing to look at Tavington. Several miscellaneous objects lay on the floor next to a stool with a solitary candle sitting on top giving the only light. The stool was positioned at the head of the cot where her eyes finally rested. Tavington appeared as if he was only sleeping, but she knew better. A thin blanket was pulled up to Tavington's waist, showing his torso which was wrapped in tight, bloodstained bandages.

She walked slowly to the side of the cot and knelt down; running her fingertips over the side of Tavington's cheek, as if proving to herself it was really him and not a hallucination. His skin felt cold and yet kind of clammy and that gave her the slightest hope. If he was dead he would be completely cold. She trailed her fingers down to his neck, looking for a pulse. She felt the curve of his neck and jaw, praying she felt the rhythmic pulse. She closed her eyes, paying attention to only the tips of her fingers. But she couldn't detect anything. The blood was not flowing – his heart was not beating.

Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she buried her head in Tavington's side. She held onto his hand with both of hers as she let everything out. "You bastard," she whispered as her tears stained his bandages, getting blood on her cheeks. "You bastard! You lied to me. What happened to being unstoppable? What happened to being undefeatable?"

The doctor quickly rushed into the tent but stayed back as the young woman let all her frustration out. He kept an eye on her, making sure she wouldn't do anything stupid, but also trying to give her the feeling of someone there for her. Although she paid him no attention he remained silent in the back.

"You … you thief!" she cried though it was almost lost to the doctor's ears. "You can't just die. You can't just leave me here; leave things the way they are. Can't you see I love you? Can't you see that I wasn't going to betray you, that I could never do that to you? Why couldn't you believe me? Why?"

As Kris sobbed, her energy just about spent from her crying and begging, she heard an intake of breath. It was faint, but it was distinct, and she jumped up. "Wake up," she whispered, shaking his hand as she clutched it. "You're alive, I know it. Wake up!"

"Miss," the doctor said when he realized she thought he was still alive. He couldn't allow her to go on like that because eventually it would catch up to her and be the cause of her own grief and death. "Miss, I'm sorry, but he's not alive."

Kris turned around and glared at the doctor who dared tell her she was wrong. "Yes he is!" she said. "He just breathed, I heard it." She turned back towards Tavington and looked him over. She noticed his arms started to shake, the muscles tensing slightly as if he were trying to use them but couldn't. "Come on," she urged him. "Get up."

Stunned the doctor stared at what was going on before him. The colonel had been dead five minutes ago; he would have sworn his life to it. What was going on that he would be moving now, or at least trying to move? He walked up beside Kris, feeling for Tavington's vital signs. Kris moved back, out of the doctor's way so he could work on Tavington. But once her hand left Tavington's his body stopped moving. The pulse the doctor had felt earlier was slowly descending to nothing once more. It was as if when Kris left his side he lost the will to fight.

The doctor looked back at Kris with a confusing look and then back at Tavington. This was nothing he had ever seen before. "Miss … you have to stay near him," he said, moving aside to allow Kris space. She moved back forward and took Tavington's hand, hope growing strong within her. Nothing happened for a few moments, and she grew desperate. Then she got an idea. She moved up and leaned forward, softly brushing her lips against Tavington's. She leant her forehead against his, reveling in the feeling of his skin against her own. "Come back to me," she whispered, her eyes shut to memorize this moment through touch and not sight. "I love you."

Instantly she felt Tavington's fingers lightly close over her own and she smiled, fresh tears falling from her eyes. But these were not tears of sadness; these were tears of joy because she knew what this meant. This meant Tavington forgave her for her deceit. But most importantly, he loved her in return. She saw now she couldn't live without him, and he obviously didn't want to live without her.

-

**A/N: **There it is, the final chapter. I'm so sorry it took forever and a day to get out but you know how life goes. I hope everyone liked it, and I also hope that my writing has improved through the course of the story. I read back on several chapters as I wrote this one and I saw how mediocre it really was. But you can only improve through practice and I hope I have been doing that. My paragraphs have gotten longer but that's probably because I'm not breaking when I'm supposed to (which is probably very much the case).

I know the ending might seem a little far-fetched, but believe it or not it can really happen. Maybe not then because they don't have our technology but I know someone who was unresponsive to everyone except his ex-wife. I thought it would be perfect for this story, leaving it in a somewhat happy note.

On a separate note, I do have an idea for a sequel. It's not necessarily worked out yet, but I'm playing around with the idea. I also have the idea of writing the story before posting it that way posts can be regular. I just have to have the patience for it. But tell me what you think – should I continue or just leave it as is?

I would like to thank everyone for bearing with me and reading this. I know I'm not perfect and I take forever with updates, but you people are what keep me going. I especially want to thank Jojo who has read through this and has supported me in all my writing. I love you girl!

And one more note before I take my leave. I don't know how affected everyone was by the news of Heath Ledger's death, but I was extremely hurt by it. (I don't want to use it as an excuse, but that was one other reason I didn't update because I really had to watch the movie and I couldn't bring myself to do it. I still hardly can.) Heath has always had a special place in my heart. He has inspired me in a lot that I do, including writing. My dream was to meet him (even to work beside him) but now I will never get that blessing. I wish nothing but good fortune and good hope for his family, friends, and especially his little daughter. He was an incredible and talented man, and I still hope to meet him one day when I die. He may be gone, but he will never, ever be forgotten.

Rest in Peace, Heath, and know that you are greatly missed by old and young alike.


End file.
